Female Chauvinistic Pigs
by Fantom Of The Fiction
Summary: When Natasha Romanoff first comes to S.H.I.E.L.D., she receives a lot of criticism from the other agents, seeing as she was a former Soviet Spy. Some of her fellow female agents agree with the males that the uniform looks damn fine on her.


_**A/N:**__ I wrote this for my Intro to College Writing final. It's based off of one of the essays I wrote for the class._

_This fanfiction ignores the Budapest plotline._

**xXx**

"_Agent Barton, you're needed in Fury's office_." Came the voice of Phil Coulson through an ear piece.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do."

"_Now._"

Clint sighed, "Copy that." he responded. He took one last sip from his styrofoam cup of coffee, crushed it in his hand, and tossed it in the trash bin. It was good coffee, especially for a company who didn't have coffee as a top priority. He rose from his seat and made his way out of one of the many break rooms located in the SHIELD Headquarters.

The walk to Fury's office would take a few minutes, considering the break room was on the opposite side of the building. Clint entertained himself by sneaking around the building, avoiding main hallways, and ducking behind pillars and walls when someone walked past him. It was always good to get some stealth practicing in.

He successfully reached the door to Fury's office without being spotted. Raising his fist to knock on the door, he was surprised when the door opened just before he could knock. Phil Coulson stood in the doorway.

"How did you do that? I was on a roll with the sneaking around!" Clint pouted.

"I know things, Agent Barton. Come in, please."

"You're acting very formal. Is something going on? I'm not in trouble, am I?" he eyed Phil suspiciously.

"Something's come up, and we need your assistance." Phil gestured for Clint to enter.

Clint cocked his head to the side and stepped into the office as Phil closed the door. Fury sat behind his large desk, looking serious and focused. Clint followed his gaze to a woman with short red hair and green eyes sitting across from him.

Clint walked towards the two, stepping into his professional persona; his hands clasped behind his back, shoulders up, and back straight.

"Sir." He nodded at Fury.

Fury's gaze turned to him, "Agent Barton, I want to introduce you to someone. This is Miss Natasha Romanoff."

Clint turned his head to the woman, who stood and faced him. He extended his hand and she took it, not expecting her to have such a firm grip.

"Miss Romanoff, this is Agent Clint Barton."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Agent Barton." She gave him an extraordinary smile.

"The pleasure is all mine." He smiled in return.

"Please, take a seat. I have something to discuss with you both."

Natasha took her seat and Clint sat in the available one beside her. Phil stood a few feet behind them, and most likely already knew what was going to be discussed.

"About a month ago, Miss Romanoff has asked to join SHIELD. Considering her skills and talents, we could use her in the field. We've processed her paperwork, so she's an official Agent of SHIELD now. I'm not giving you specifics; it's up to her to decide whether or not she wants to tell you her life's story. I will, however, give you the basics. Agent Romanoff's is from Russia, and her strengths are in espionage, stealth, and hand to hand combat. She is an assassin, just like you. She's also a former Soviet Spy."

Clint's eyes narrowed slightly when Fury told him this, but otherwise showed no other reaction. When Fury was finished, Clint sat back and took it all in.

"I don't mean to come off as rude, but what does any of this have to do with me?"

"Agent Romanoff is new to this facility, so she needs a mentor. A friend, if you will. Also, I'm assigning you two as partners." He looked pointedly at the two of them.

Clint raised his eyebrows. "Partners? Why?"

Fury stared at him, "Because you need someone to keep you in control, Agent Barton. We also ran some psychological tests, and you were her best match. You two are both skilled in espionage, and are both trained assassins."

Clint shrugged, "I have no objections."

"And what do you say, Agent Romanoff?"

Natasha smiled slightly, "I have no objections."

"Good. Agent Romanoff, your quarters are on the second floor of the housing building. Your things have been moved there already. Agent Barton, please escort her to her new quarters."

"Yes, sir."

"Agent Romanoff, good luck. I expect great things from you."

Natasha nodded her head once to Fury and followed Clint out of the office.

"So if you're from Russia, why don't you have a Russian accent?" Clint asked, trying to break the ice.

"Being skilled in espionage entails a skill in deception."

Clint nodded, understanding what she meant. He continued to ask her questions as they walked to the housing building.

"My quarters are two doors down. Feel free to stop by any time. Oh, and dinner is in the mess hall at six thirty. But I suggest getting there at around six twenty to avoid the line and get the food while it's hot."

"Where is the mess hall?"

"Oh. It's in the main building, which we were just in, it's, ah… You take a right and…" Clint paused, "How about we walk there together? I'm shit at directions."

Natasha smirked, "Sure."

"Alright. Good. Great. I'll see you then. Oh, you've got your ID badge, right?"

"Yes, I received it earlier today."

"You gotta swipe your ID and type in the passcode that Phil – ah, Agent Coulson should have given you."

"Yes, Agent Coulson gave it to me."

"Good. I'll come get you at about six fifteen." Clint nodded once and went into his quarters.

**xXx**

Natasha and Clint stood in line in the mess hall. They had gotten there just before the big dinnertime rush, so there weren't very many people there yet save for the few in line in front of them, and more people filed in as they made their way down the line.

The new partners sat down across from each other at the end of a long table. Clint was talking about the usual schedule, and Natasha was only half-listening to him. She was more focused on learning her surroundings. She looked around the mess hall, filing away faces into her memory. She turned her remaining attention to a group of four security trainees that were sitting near them at a round table. Still keeping her eyes on Clint.

"Did you hear about the new recruit?" one of them asked.

"No, what about them? When did they come in?" another responded.

"Yeah, I heard about that one. She's got fiery red hair. _Outrageously_ hot, too. Saw her coming in today."

"Man, you saw her in person? I only got to see her on the security cameras. What a _babe_!"

"Ahh, it's a she? What's her story?"

None of them could answer that.

'_No one knows my story. Not yet, at least.'_ Natasha thought to herself.

"Hey, fellas. What's going on?" asked another security trainee, whose ID badge indicated that her name was Alexandra, who set her tray on the table and sat down. Another trainee, Rebecca, followed suit.

"The new recruit. Heard about her yet?"

"The red head? Yeah, heard about her. She's okay, I guess."

"_Okay_?! You're kidding me. She is _smoking_. I'd hit that all night long."

Natasha rolled her eyes.

"Something wrong, Natasha?" Clint asked her.

"No, no. Continue, please. Where is the gym, again?" she asked, coaxing him back into his long, one-sided discussion that she was completely ignoring by now.

"She's drop-dead gorgeous, Alex. How could you not think that?" Rebecca said.

"Alright, aright, get off me. If you say so, then I have to agree, she _is_ pretty hot. You know, I heard that she was a Soviet spy."

"_What_?!" The table exclaimed in unison.

"You're pulling my leg, Alex. There's no way."

"No, no, it's true! I swear."

"I bet she's here on a mission. She's trying to infiltrate the system."

"No way! That's bullshit."

Natasha, interrupting Clint, leaned over to their table.

"No, it's true. Trust me, I have insider knowledge." That grabbed their attention immediately, "Turns out, she's also an assassin. Rumor has it that she knows how to kill a man twelve different ways with his own body parts." She paused for dramatic effect, "And she's tasted human flesh. _Willingly._" Her voice turned vicious and she hissed, "So I would sleep with one eye open tonight." She shoved her tray away from her, stood from her seat, and stomped out of the mess hall.

**xXx**

Clint stood outside of Natasha's door to her quarters, wondering if he should knock. He was her partner, after all, and they needed to form some sort of friendship if they wanted their partnership to work.

He pondered, considered, thought, and finally knocked on her door. He almost walked away, but remembered that there was a real reason that he was there.

It took a few moments, but eventually Natasha opened the door.

"Hello, Agent Barton. Can I help you with something?"

"Please, call me Clint. Agent is too formal."

"Alright then, Clint. Is there something you need?"

"I was wondering if you were alright. You stormed out of the mess hall, and I was worried. Did those guys say something to piss you off?"

"Yes. They were making assumptions. I don't appreciate that."

"They're a bunch of morons. Don't listen to them. They're just trainees, that's all. They haven't even been here six months."

"Thank you for worrying. It shows character." Natasha smiled slightly. "Is that all you wanted?"

"No, actually. Coulson paged me. He said he's been trying to contact you for the past ten minutes. Do you have your earpiece in?"

"No. I took it out when I was moving my things in."

"Keep it in from now on, alright? Your uniform is in and Coulson wants to make sure it works and fits. Then he wants to work of some training with you."

Natasha huffed slightly and turned away from the open door. Clint hesitated at the door and took a few steps inside.

Her quarters looked just like his, except without any personal memorabilia, and she had a better view out of her window. Clint's windows were blocked by the training facility.

Natasha walked back over to him, adjusting her earpiece so it fit comfortably in her ear. "Do I go to Fury's office?"

"Not this time. You'll be going to the training facility. It's the building just on the other side of this one. Just go down to the first floor and out the west entrance. It's right there, can't miss it."

"I thought you said you were shit at directions?" Natasha said wryly.

Clint gave her a lopsided smile, "These are simple directions. And I go to the training facility all the time, much more often than Fury's office."

"That's understandable. Thanks." Natasha and Clint left her quarters and she shut her door behind her.

Finding Coulson in the training facility was simple; he met her at the entrance.

"Agent Coulson." Natasha greeted Phil.

"Agent Romanoff. Your uniform has arrived." He handed her a dress box. "You can change in the locker room over there. Once you've changed, we'll go through some training regimens to make sure everything works."

**xXx**

Natasha stepped out of the locker room. She had put her regular clothing in one of the lockers so she wouldn't have to worry about keeping an eye on them during her training.

"So what are the specifics with my uniform?" she asked as the two began walking to her training room.

"Despite its skin-tight appearance, the catsuit is made of a high-tech synthetic fabric that's resistant to high temperatures and small arms-fire. It's further enhanced with tiny suction cups that will allow for you to cling to walls and even ceilings, much like your Black Widow spider namesake. The belt carries state-of-the-art versions of gear, such as stunners, tear-gas, a cable, and a transmitter. You'll be able to quickly travel across rooftops and from building to building using the grappling hook and retractable line called the Widow's Line. There's a gun strap on both of your legs for holding your guns, as you could tell. Your primary weapon is a little thing we like to call the 'Widow's Bite,' which is delivered via your wrist cartridges. They emit a potent electrical blast with a maximum power of around thirty thousand volts."

"Impressive." Natasha admired her wrist cartridges. They looked like black rifle bullets.

**xXx**

"Hey, Sophia, take a look at this." A security guard watching Sector E's video cameras, the one for the training facility, beckoned.

"Who's that?" Tracy asked, rolling her chair over.

"The new recruit. She's trying out her new uniform."

"The Soviet spy?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"You guys talking about Agent Romanoff?" the security guard watching Sector D asked.

"Yeah. All the guys are into her."

"Chris literally called her 'bammin' slammin' bootylicious' today at dinner."

"Well I have to agree with him. She looks _damn_ fine in that catsuit. I'd go full-on lesbian for her. Just look at the way it hugs her ass and breasts."

"I want a uniform like that. Petition for Fury to change our uniforms to black catsuits."

"I second that."

"She looks like a whore. I bet fury put her in that because he's got a BDSM fetish."

**xXx**

"Alright, Agent Romanoff. Press the palm of your hand with your middle and ring fingers to eject the Widow's Bite."


End file.
